Death After Life
by Websterjude
Summary: See how the story would play out had things gone differently for Rick that first day... OFC
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1: Welcome to Fort Good**

"The dead walk among us. Zombies, ghouls—no matter what their label—these somnambulists are the greatest threat to humanity, other than humanity itself."

-Max Brooks (The Zombie Survival Guide)

"Hey you." a voice crackles to life through the radio "You in the tank… Yeah, YOU dumbass." Rick stares at the source of the sound in disbelief. He had only been in the tank a minute, maybe two. The thought of using one the last of his remaining bullets on himself had crossed his mind. More than once in fact since he had fallen off the horse. "You still alive in there?"

He crawls over to the radio in a panic "Yes, yes I'm here. Where are you? Can you see me?"

Only static comes through for a moment and Rick fears they've lost the connection. Then the man's voice breaks through again, "Yeah, we can see you… AND the hundreds of walkers swarming all around you. Smooth move buddy."

"It's pretty bad out there, huh?" Rick sighs. He knew he was in trouble the moment he ran into that big group of them. He expected a safe haven in Atlanta. He hoped to find his wife and son. This was not part of the plan.

Again the radio goes silent. Taking longer this time to respond, "Just be glad you can't see what I'm seeing." The voice laughs sympathetically. "We got a plan though. If you're up for it?"

His eyes open wide at that last question, and instantly his adrenaline starts pumping. The thought that he may well make it out of this situation overrides any other thoughts of fear or failure. "I'm ready. Got my pistol but that's it. What's the plan?" he spits out quickly.

"Alright, we're gonna try to distract them first. Send the ice cream truck by you. Use the noise to draw them back in the direction you just came from. Wait 30 seconds after that car passes and come out. Head out AWAY from the horse. There will be a car waiting. Get in the back seat driver's side." The voice goes silent but hasn't let go of the talk button. "Oh and you better move fast. Killer doesn't like to be kept waiting."

Confusion spreads across his face as he mentally enacts the plan in his head. "Wait, ice cream truck? Killer? When are you coming?" he wonders aloud. He hopes they are right about the noise. He hopes when he opens the hatch there isn't a horde of dead… things… waiting to eat him alive. The corpse next to him is already giving him the spooks.

A laugh comes through the speaker once again, "Killer is about to save your sorry ass in about 60 seconds. If you wanna make it outta that tank alive you better get your shit together buddy. Ready or not here they come." He breathes deeply and drops the CB, positioning himself to jump out as quickly as possible. His gun aimed at whatever might be waiting… just in case.

Rick soon hears the muffled sound of an ice cream truck pass by. He lets out a chuckle. It goes slowly trying to lure in as many of them as possible and allowing them to keep pace. It seems to be working as the sounds of banging on the tank around him ease. He counts out 30 seconds with the tap of his foot and flings open the hatch. There is one straggler waiting for him. He quickly fires at his head and it drops to the ground. His police training proves advantageous yet again.

The car is just yards away and Rick runs easily around the others that were drawn back in by the sound of the gunshot. He quickly jumps inside the vehicle. It seems to be more of an SUV. Definitely an older model that's large and heavy for better protection from 'outside forces'. The body is spray painted by hand in an amateur attempt at camouflage. The windows are tinted so nothing can see inside. Before he even closes the door the driver takes off. Speeding down the road Rick tries to get his bearings.

The truck is empty aside from him and the driver. The interior looks old and well worn. Probably something they found on the street and commandeered. It is a wise choice for safety's sake but not altogether the most fuel efficient in a world where gas is hard to come by, Rick thinks. A walkie-talkie on the passenger seat beeps and startles him out of his revelry. "Hey Killer, is he clean?" the same voice that he heard in the tank now addresses the driver of the vehicle.

His eyes meet 'Killers' in the rearview. Very feminine blue eyes attempt check him out as best they can while speeding down the deserted streets of Atlanta before she asks, "You alright there cowboy?" Her words are dry as if it didn't much matter to her whether he was ok or not.

"Yeah, I think I'll live." He answers smartly but gets no reaction from his rescuer.

Killer grabs the radio instead and responds "Nothing obvious. I'll check him out when we get in. Heading out on Moreland. Rendezvous at base in five." She has on army fatigue pants and a black tank top with blonde hair pulled back tightly in bun. Everything about her seems to be precise and almost cold. From the way she looks to the way she drives and even the way she spoke. Rick mentally crosses his fingers that he's been rescued and is about to be taken to safety. That he might find his family there. He chooses not to show his hand just yet though.

Then there is silence. Aside from the frequent glances in her mirror the driver doesn't acknowledge him at all. "My name is Rick. Sheriff's Deputy Rick Grimes. Thanks for savin my ass." He pauses for her to speak but when she doesn't he continues, "Do I call you… Killer?"

"If you want." She says matter-of-factly.

He laughs to himself a little at the image that popped into his head when they first told him not to keep Killer waiting, "Don't you have a real name?"

She's apparently not amused. "You can call me whatever you want sweetheart, as long as you stay out of my way." Her eyebrow arches in the mirror, annoyed with his persistence.

Rick takes quick note of the gun on her hip but still cannot get a read for her intentions. "Well if it's all the same to you I'd like to call you by your actual name, like the one on your birth certificate? You have to have a name…" He says with as much charm as he can muster while sliding to the other side of the car to get a better look at her. His partner Shane always told him he could he could sell sunglasses to a blind man if he wanted to. Not that he would. He was too honest of a guy.

Not missing a beat she answers, "I don't have a REAL name, or a birth certificate, or a driver's license, social security card, passport… no marriage certificate, voter registration card… did I miss anything there? Well, whatever it is, I don't have that either." Maybe he's not as charming as Shane thought. Killer still doesn't look at him but she smirks in his general direction. He can see the freckles on her cheeks and nose now. She's younger than him, maybe in her early thirties.

Rick puts a hand on the head rest in front of him and smiles, "Well alright. Killer it is."

As they drive he sees an ominous building loom in the distance located off the main road way on the outskirts of town. It's an institutional building for sure. When the barbed wire comes into view their destination becomes all too clear. Two men dressed fully in army fatigues and carrying rifles run up to open the gate and Killer drives up the drive to a loading dock in the back. Others are waiting for them there. Talking amongst themselves but all heavily armed they seem both casual and menacing at the same time.

A spark of hope lights up Rick's face. It doesn't go unnoticed by Killer either. Still, he is reluctant to walk into any situation uniformed and outnumbered. Life has taught him that lesson the hard way twice now. She waits for Rick to exit the vehicle and when he doesn't she opens her door and says over her shoulder, "Welcome to Metro State Prison. A.k.a. Fort Good. You better go check in with boys…"


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2: Start Talking**

"The monsters that rose from the dead, they are nothing compared to the ones we carry in our hearts."

-Max Brooks (World War Z)

Rick is greeted with smiles this time and enthusiastic handshakes as the guys bring him into the building. They ask him a barrage of questions as they take him on a quick tour of the prison. There are seven of them in total and they all follow along on the walk. Apparently they haven't found a 'live' one in awhile and they all want to hear his story.

The prison itself is thankfully an older one. Solid walls and highly secure points of entry make it a surprisingly wise place to hole up. It keeps people out just as well as in. They have most of the unneeded areas locked down like the cell blocks and the main foyer because of its double set of glass plated doors. All areas with windows are off limits except the bathroom. Too much of a risk and at night their lights would draw unwanted attention.

First stop is the cafeteria which serves as the main living space. It's probably one of the larger open areas in the prison and serves many functions simultaneously. Cots brought in from some of the cells sit on one side and a couple tables and chairs are near the kitchen. Lots of shelving on the other end of the room provides storage for all the supplies, food and weapons they've scavenged.

Flashlights are a staple here and Rick has his on as they head towards a very shadowy room. The darkness can be blinding without them. The library is left open though the guys say they haven't used it much. Unlike all the other rooms that are littered with candles or lanterns this one remains virtually untouched. Rick stops as he enters the library, "So what happened to all the prisoners?" he asks still carefully noting his surroundings using the mag-light they gave him.

Honda, the voice from the radio answers with a shrug, "When things first got crazy the governor ordered all the prisoners released. Everyone booked it outta here I guess. When we got here it was totally abandoned." Rick just nods thoughtfully at him. He is young, maybe in his early twenties. Though he seems to be both the smallest and the youngest of the bunch he makes up for it with personality. Honda does most of the talking. He had told Rick earlier that his real name was Roger Poole and that he grew up in Atlanta. These days though, they only go by the nicknames they've given each other.

The combination of heavy duty cleansers and the lack of fresh air in the old building were unmistakably institutional. The underlying mustiness was growing too. No doubt it will only get worse with time. Ventilation could be an issue without electricity to help circulate the air. They tell Rick they try to leave a door open once in awhile on cool breezy days. Carefully guarded of course.

Next is a large storage room near the lavatory. It's been converted into a small gym. Taking much of the equipment they could find from out in the yard. It seems to be a favorite spot of Popeye. With a shaved head and big muscles it's fairly obvious why. "We took a bunch of the mattresses and put 'em up against the wall to keep the noise from echoing." He says in a deep baritone. Rick looks somewhat impressed but Popeye just shrugs, "It was Killer's idea."

Bathroom facilities are the last stop on the tour. Pushing open the door with a big padded hand is Bubba. He stands at over six feet tall and he far outweighs the rest of the guys. His southern drawl is thick as molasses when he speaks, "Here's the can. Cold water still runs so we got showers and all that. Limit's one a week during daylight hours only. Extra if you get guts on you though. Three minutes max. Take it easy on the soap and keep your light pointed down after dark." Bubba points a finger at the skylights that make it the only room with ambient lighting.

As they make their way back to the tables and start to sit down another voice chimes in, "And now for the fun part." He says with sarcasm. His shaggy blonde hair hangs in his eyes. They call him Frisco because apparently that's where he's from. Thin and muscular, he's maybe a few years older than Honda. Everyone starts to take a seat at the tables. "Last stop is the hospital." He says with a wave of his hand to show Rick he should follow.

Jet, a dark haired Italian looking man, comes along as well. He's tall and lanky, all limbs, and doesn't say much even when spoken to. He keeps his hand on his gun when he walks but it seems more like a show of manliness than an actual intent to use it. The others stay behind and although Rick questions it he's found them gracious enough up to now. "Go on in, Killer is waiting for you." Frisco says stopping short of the door marked with only a red cross on a plastic placard.

Now Rick gets a little nervous. His eyes narrow with suspicion as he looks back and forth between the two men, "What's going on?" he asks. They seem as relaxed as ever though. Not the least bit phased.

"It's inspection. We all have to do it. Don't worry, it doesn't hurt." Jet finally pipes up with a seedy grin. Rick immediately decides he doesn't like him. Rather, he doesn't like him because he doesn't trust him. The devious twinkle in his eye reminds him of more than a few criminals he's had the displeasure to know.

In spite of his concern he walks in, body tense and on high alert. The room is filled with the dull glow of candlelight. Killer grabs a pair of latex gloves out of a box on the counter as he enters. Her expression is as stoic as ever, eyes blue and icy. The room is a decent size. A couple of cots, a shiny metal gurney and lots of medical supplies fill the space. It smells particularly antiseptic and it tingles in Rick's nose. "What's inspection..?" he asks guardedly.

"It's routine. Anyone who's come in close contact with the walkers and newbie's get inspected. Check for bite marks and scratches, that kind of thing." She says matter-of-factly as she snaps the last glove on. She looks at him expectantly before telling him, "Strip."

Rick's eyes widen. She may think it's no big deal but he definitely feels uncomfortable. Though the idea in theory is actually pretty logical he's more than a little taken off guard. "Wait, you can catch it from a scratch?" he stalls, both unsure of her intentions and of what her reaction will be when she sees his gunshot wound.

She crosses her arms over her chest. "It…the infection can enter the bloodstream through any open wound, even a scratch, yes." She senses his discomfort and adds, "I just need to take a quick look at you and you can get outta here. You can leave your underwear on but the rest has to come off. It's the price of admission cowboy." She says and Rick could almost swear there is a hint of reassurance in her tone.

"So are you a real doctor?" he asks as he takes off his holster and puts it on the gurney next to him.

Killer raises an eyebrow at that. Her favorite expression Rick thinks. "No, I'm really ballerina." She says dripping with sarcasm. "Are you a real cop?"

He lets out a chuckle and she appears even more annoyed that he thinks it's funny. "And the others?" he asks unbuttoning his shirt. "Military?"

She lets out a sardonic laugh, "Definitely not. They just wish they were. Got the uniforms from a military supply store downtown. It's easier just to go with it. Trust me." Rick nods, willing to accept that explanation… for now. As he takes off his shirt her eyes widen at the sight of his blood soaked bandages and she reaches for both her gun on her hip. "Start talking." She says as she aims it at his head.


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: Thanks for bearing with me though the boring explanation part. Hopefully you'll find this chapter a little more interesting. All comments are welcome! Special thanks to all my subscribers and to Erik for being the first to R&R **

**Chapter 3: Son of a Bitch**

"Lies are neither bad nor good. Like a fire they can either keep you warm or burn you to death, depending on how they're used."

-Max Brooks (World War Z)

From the way she holds her gun Rick can tell she's not experienced with it. He doesn't doubt she'll try to use it anyway though. "Easy. Easy now. It's a gunshot. It's not what you think." Rick says putting his hands up in mock surrender.

Killer isn't entirely convinced but so far the stranger hadn't shown any signs of infection so she lowers her weapon. "Why did they shoot you?" she asks as she goes for her flashlight. A deliberate phrasing since she doesn't much care who did it only what he did to deserve it. Grown men could get into an all out shoot out over a pair of socks these days.

He still has his hands up trying to put her at ease as he answers, "It was a car chase that ended in a shoot out. He was a bad guy, I'm a good guy. I was between him and freedom I guess…" Rick gives her the simplest, most honest answer he can think of. If she really is a doctor she just might be willing to help him. His side is pretty sore and obviously still bleeding. Running for your life isn't exactly great for the healing process.

Killer laughs again at him again. He's definitely not like the others. Yet again she's given him her best attitude and it only seems to make him calmer. She says under her breath, "There aren't any good guys left." Not waiting for his response she adds, "Get up on the table and let me get a look. If you're lying you're gonna be in a world of shit cowboy." She begins rummaging around looking for something as he hops up on the gurney.

"Are there others?" he asks still hoping against hope that his family was out there somewhere. He hadn't asked the guys. They seemed much more interested in that fact that he worked for the sheriff's office than why he had come to Atlanta in the first place. Killer on the other hand was unimpressed… by anything.

She finds what she is looking for, a pair of scissors. As she cuts away the bandages wrapped around his torso she asks, "What do you mean?" She thought maybe he meant others besides the guys he met already but decided against it. He was looking for someone specific and that made her suspicious. She throws the bandages in the trash.

Rick winces a little but braces his hands, arms wide, on the edge of the gurney. Whatever she's going to do it's probably going to hurt. "I mean other groups of people, like you guys… you know, ones with families, kids." The metal feels cold against his warm hands.

She looks away from him as soon as he says it. "No." is all she says flatly. She shines the flashlight on his wound and cranes her neck to get a better look. It's definitely not a bite. The edges are too clean. She presses her fingers along his side feeling his ribs. Satisfied he told her truth she puts the back of her hand against his forehead and deadpans, "You don't have a fever but it doesn't look great either. Your ribs are probably bruised, could be broken but I'd need an x-ray to know for sure. Either way not much we can do for it… I can clean up the gunshot for you. Put you on antibiotics. If you try to take it easy and let me keep an eye on it I think you'll live."

He smiles big at that. It's the kindest face she's seen in months. It makes her want to smile back but she resists. Rick catches it though and it makes him smile just a little bid harder. She is definitely not the cold hard Killer she pretends to be. "Whatever you say Doc." He tells her. If anyone is going to be willing to help him find his family, it's her. He can feel it in his bones.

She nods and sets up a table with everything she needs and pulls it over to him along with a chair. "Move for a second?" she asks, scooting him off the table. She folds a sheet in half and lays it on the gurney, smoothing it out carefully. She was always a perfectionist. Just because they were living in chaos didn't mean you just let everything go to hell. Trying to keep order in this world though was like one man trying to fight a whole army, futile.

"Sorry, don't mean to make a mess of your stuff with my…" he says noting his side and the sheet. She moves to the left and he climbs back up, lying down on his back.

She shrugs, "Blood doesn't bother me… I just thought the table might be cold." As soon as it comes out of her mouth she regrets it. Being kind was a sign of weakness in her world. Choosing to ignore it she asks him, "Tell me about how you wound up here? It'll distract you from the pain." With that Killer bites down on a small flashlight with the right side of her mouth and uses her free hands to start cleaning out the wound.

Rick tells her the quick and ugly version of the story. She just keeps working at the wound scraping out anything that shouldn't be there and rinsing it out carefully with a squeeze bottle. It takes longer without the right lighting and he suspects she may have taken a little of the good stuff along with the bad. Still, she's more gentle than he expected or maybe just a better doctor. Rick is a model patient, only fidgeting when he talks about his family.

She opts against stitches knowing despite her advice he'll pop them anyway. Medical supplies were too valuable to waste. Instead she places some gauze on the spot and tapes it to his skin. "Alright, you can sit up slowly." She says pushing her chair back and standing up to discard her gloves. She grabs a roll of gauze and returns to the table, "Arms up." Killer carefully wraps the bandage around his torso. Passing the roll from one hand to the other behind his back almost feels like she's hugging him and it makes them both uncomfortable.

Rick smiles although she can't see it, "Something tells me this is your favorite position." he jokes at the fact he's got his hands up in surrender for the second time in less than an hour. He was trying to make her laugh, too diffuse the tension… and because she smelled good. Not like anything particular, just clean. It made him nervous that he noticed it. He hadn't been nervous around a woman in a very long time but she must have taken it in a decidedly more off color way. It brings her to an abrupt halt, leaning back from him.

With her eyebrow arched at the ready she quips, "Actually, I prefer to be on top…" His eyes go wide at the statement but she continues with her wrapping. It's only when she's finished and carefully tucked and taped the loose end that she sees a faint blush across his face.

She smiles then, for the first time since he's met her. It's bright and sincere and Rick has absolutely no idea what to say for once. The look of satisfaction on her face as she cleans up her things is unmistakable. "So… do I pass?" he finally asks.

"Yup, you're clear. Come back in the morning before breakfast and I'll take a look at it and give you some meds. TRY to take it easy please?" she says as he sets his feet back down on the floor. She said the word please. She never said please. Not anymore. She had slipped again and it scared her more than all the monsters roaming the streets of Atlanta combined.

Rick had thought she would ask to see the rest of him first. Not that he minded leaving his pants on. She was more thorough than that though and they both knew it. He was positive then that Killer was an act. The face she chose to show the others and they both knew that too.

He put his things back on but she still had her back to him. She was carefully rinsing all her tools in the small sink the room had. Her hands were shaking though and she dropped her scalpel twice before placing it in a bowl with the others. She pours what looks like half a bottle of Vodka over them. Sterilization Rick assumes. He wants to say something but he doesn't know what. "Thanks Doc" he says softly. It's all he can think of.

He opens the door to leave her be and just as he is about to walk out Killer says over her shoulder, "Tell anyone I was nice to you and I will kick your ass." He leaves the room with a grin. She closes her eyes and takes a deep breath. When she opens them her eyes steel and her composure is regained. She realizes then that she let him leave without a complete inspection, "Son of a bitch…" she says out loud shaking her head with a smile.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4: Can I Come In?**

"I know that most people would rather face the light of a real enemy than the darkness of their imagined fears."

-Max Brooks (World War Z)

That night while the guys played cards at a table across the room Rick just laid in bed. He knew he should sleep, he wanted to so badly. His head was spinning though and he couldn't quiet that voice in the back of his mind telling him that he should be out there looking for his family. Even worse was the nagging feeling in the pit of his stomach that he may never find them.

He has a moment of panic at that thought and sits up holding his head in his hands. How can these guys just sit there playing cards like everything is fine? They've had more time to adjust to things he supposes. They were all just a little to comfortable with the status quo for Rick's liking. Most of them were young. They referred to the outbreak as 'the war'. They even kept a tally of how many kills they had. As if it was a video game or something.

Of course no one was more apathetic than the doctor. Something she had clearly practiced at. Killer had come around to eat dinner earlier but quietly disappeared during a heated debate about whether or not they should go to the city tomorrow. Either she didn't fit in with the others or chose not to. The chance of heading out to there again was more interesting at the moment though. It would take his mind off other things.

Rick makes his way over to the table and pulls up a chair next to Honda. "How's the game?" he asks. The table is littered with the tabs from soda cans. They made less noise than any of the other things they tried as poker chips. He had to admit it was amusing watching all the harsh whispers and dramatic gestures fly across the table. It was all so carefully orchestrated to keep the noise down.

Just about everything these days had to be modified. So many little things to think of it made Rick wonder how long it took them to come up with this routine. "Ah, it's crap. I suck at poker." He says throwing his cards down on the table silently.

"That's why we call 'em Honda. He's always getting jacked." says a deep baritone voice from across the table. Radar was about the same age as Rick. He never wore sleeves and always had a toothpick in his mouth. Jet snickers at the statement with his big Cheshire grin, again giving Rick the creeps. The others laugh lightly.

Rick thinks about it for a second and asks, "Because Honda's get stolen more than most cars?"

"Pretty much…" Frisco chimes in without looking away from his cards. He is having a stare down with Bubba, trying to call his bluff. Everyone else has folded. A bead of sweat rolls down Bubba's head. He licks his lips nervously and Frisco knows he's got him.

Rick looks around at the group and for the first time gives their names some thought. "What about the rest of ya?"

Honda laughs as if he had been expecting that question for awhile now. "Well, let's see… Popeye and Frisco are pretty straight forward. Jet runs faster than anyone I ever met. The Mad Scientist used to be a line cook. He can mix the most messed up sounding crap we manage to find and make it taste amazing. Bubba… well, he just looks like a Bubba doesn't he? Radar over there can spot a walker a mile away. I dunno if he smells 'em or sees 'em or what but he's always the first to know when one's coming. And of course you're Cowboy 'cause you rode into town on a horse like this was some kind of John Wayne movie or something…"

That gets a chuckle out of everyone including Rick. He would much rather be called by his name but in the grand scheme of things being called Cowboy wasn't so bad. His entrance obviously made an impression. Frisco throws his hands up in success and rakes a pile of tabs towards him. "To the victor go the spoils." he says gloating transparently. Bubba just shakes his head disappointed with the loss.

After a moment Rick smiles and adds, "And Killer?" The laughter stops abruptly. They all avoid eye contact which pique's his interest even more.

"It's how we found her." The Mad Scientist speaks up for the first time. He had a thick New York accent when he spoke and wore a beaded Puerto Rican flag around his neck. Looking up at Rick he finishes, "She had just shot this cat. Put a bullet right in his head. I mean he prolly had it coming but man she don't mess around. Just had this look in her eyes like she didn't care about no one or nothing. Ruthless chica…"

With that Bubba grabs the cards and shuffles them, dealing another hand. Now it made sense that she didn't socialize with the others. She wanted them to be afraid of her. He just wasn't sure why. Rick tries to change the subject, "So… you guys going out tomorrow or something?"

"Come on man, why do I always get the shittiest hand? Next time I'm dealing." Honda growls at no one in particular before answering "Why, you wanna tag along Cowboy?"

Rick leans forward in his seat, "I definitely wanna get out there and do something." He says eagerly.

Radar and Popeye exchange looks before Popeye nods at him. "We're going on a liquor run. You can come… if you think you can keep up." Radar raises an eyebrow at Rick before turning to Bubba, "Hit me."

Now he's more than a little confused. Of all things why put yourself in a life threatening situation for some alcohol. He hadn't even seen anyone drink anything but water since he'd been there. Although he noticed several bottles in the hospital he assumed they were just for sanitization. He was too curious not ask, "Are we throwing a party or something..?"

Again Popeye and Radar have a silent conversation between them. Clearly if there is a leader among the group it's one of them. "We're saving up. Got a big project in the works." Is all he says.

Honda's eyes light up and he asks, "Can I show him? My hand is crap anyway."

Radar nods at him and Honda motions for Rick to follow. The two walk into the kitchen and head back to a dark corner, "Should I be worried?" Rick asks only half joking. His flashlight searches the area with practiced ease.

"Nah, the walk-in just seemed like a good place to put it. In case anything blew up." Honda replies matter-of-factly.

As Honda reaches for the door it occurs to Rick, "The gas still work in here?" referring to the kitchen.

Honda opens the latch and turns around. "Not for awhile now. Usually we make the fire outside and just bring in the hot coals to heat stuff up. We try not to cook outside too much. In case them things can smell it and come looking."

He opens the door and ushers Rick in first. His eyes go wide at the sight before him. It's some kind of big contraption. Copper piping snakes around a big vat. Some pieces open up to nothing, unfinished. It looks like something you would expect to see in a laboratory a hundred years ago. "What… what the hell is that?" Rick asks without even trying to mask the confusion in his voice.

"I like to call her Stella. Course the guys think it's stupid to name it. But whatever, it's basically a still. Plan is to get this bad boy working and collect as much alcohol as we can." Honda beams with pride as Rick looks over 'Stella'.

He shakes his head in amazement. "What are you gonna do with it, make moonshine or something?" Rick asks, still unclear what the whole thing is supposed to do.

Honda laughs, "No dumb ass, we're gonna turn the alcohol into fuel. To run the cars? Gas is getting pretty hard to come by and the further outta town we have to go to find it the more we end up wasting."

"Who the hell came up with this?" Rick asks. It sounds pretty far fetched to him but if it works… damn would that be something.

Honda points to the inside of the door. Rick shines his light on what appears to be crude blueprints taped up on it. "Killer came up with it. Found some books in the library and stuff I guess. I don't really understand how it works but no one else had a better idea so…" he trails off.

Rick goes back to the still and looks at it more closely this time, "Is this welded?"

"Yup, we got some car batteries hooked up for power and Bubba did the rest. He was a mechanic before, did a lot of body work." Honda replies. Whether or not the thing actually works is one thing. That it gives everyone a sense of purpose and pride in themselves though is pretty clear.

Satisfied with his once over the two head out of the walk in. "Where exactly IS she?" Ricks changes the subject again. He has so many questions he wanted to ask her. About the still and the guy she supposedly murdered. Radar and Popeye were clearly the defacto leaders but Killer was definitely the brains of this operation.

"Who, Killer? She's in her room I guess." Honda answers suspiciously.

Rick stops before they make it out into the main room, "I thought no one was supposed to go anywhere alone?"

Honda shrugs, "She doesn't like to hang with us guys. She can be kind of a downer anyway so nobody says anything." Sensing Rick was wondering why they bother keep her around at all he adds, "Money, it ain't worth nothing anymore. But skills? Skills are worth something and she's got plenty of those."

He thinks about it and wonders aloud, "So what does she get out of it?"

"I don't; care how badass you are. No one can make it out there on there own forever…" Honda says as he heads out of the kitchen and back to the game.

Rick follows not too long after but heads for the door instead of the table. "Hey, where ya goin buddy?" Jet calls out to him.

Rick stops before leaving the room, "Gonna go ask the Doc about that still."

Jet stands up and everyone looks at him with panic in their eyes, "You sure you wanna do that? She doesn't like visitors…"

"I think I can handle it." He says before turning the corner. He hears the faint sound of laughter as he heads down the dark hallway.

When he reaches the door he hesitates before knocking quietly. There's no response so he knocks a little louder this time. Suddenly the door flies open, "Jesus, are you trying to wake the dead? What the hell do…" Killer stops mid-sentence when she sees its Rick standing there at her door.

He looks almost defeated and doesn't say anything right away. She looks at him expectantly and he finally confesses, "I need… your help. Can I come in?"


	5. Chapter 5

**AN: Forgot to add a note to thank everyone for reading when I posted the last chapter, so thank you all twice for reading ! Special thanks to the few of you who took the time out to review. The comments help get me motivated to write when life gets a little distracting lol… I was having a block with the vibe of this for awhile and decided to mess with the style a little. Was trying to get in some action but I felt this was the best place in the timeline to give a little more background on Killer. So… one more slow chapter and off we go! Anyway, hope you enjoy. In chapter 6 they'll be out in the city and I'll start introducing some of the series regulars so stick around!**

**Chapter 5: "I'm Sick of Looking at Your Ugly Mug"**

"There is a word for that kind of lie. Hope."

-Max Brooks (World War Z)

Killer eyed Rick up and down suspiciously before backing up against the door to let him pass. It wasn't meant to be but she used it as her sleeping quarters anyway. It had a hell of a lot more privacy than the cafeteria. All those lascivious eyes watching her every move like a piece of meat left her with a sick feeling in her stomach. She avoided that room as much as possible these days. The door actually dead bolted from the inside too, a major selling point and a rare find in prison. Then there was the familiar smell, which to anyone else would be nauseating, but only put Killer at ease.

It seemed less sterile, Rick noted, than it had earlier. She had clearly been sitting on one of the cots and the sheets looked noticeably disheveled in what was normally an extremely orderly room. There were several books open on the bed, though he didn't quite catch the subjects. Pencils and papers were strewn on the gurney he had sat on hours before. "What's the matter, don't like poker?" she quips from behind him.

Turning on his heels Rick smiles, "Never had much use for gambling I guess…" There was a pencil tucked behind her ear and her hair was loose. It served her well, made her look younger and softer almost. Without so many hard edges to hide behind she didn't look anything like the cold blooded 'killer' Rick was warned about. In fact she looked more like the kind of girl who could melt your heart with a kind smile and a soft laugh… If you got past the gun and all he laughed to himself.

The two stand there in awkward silence for a moment. She was waiting for him to get to the point. To see what he needed her help for. Rick was looking at her strangely instead and she suspected the others had told him about how they found her. Killer swore those guys gossiped worse than women sometimes. "Yes." She finally offers boldly.

"You don't know what I was gonna say?" he narrows his eyes at her. She knew exactly what he was going to ask. Obviously she'd have to be bright to be a doctor but she was more than just book smart he thought. Instead of responding she went over to the gurney and neatly stacked the papers in a pile, moving them to the cot with her books and replacing them with a blanket from the other cot.

Jumping up to sit on the counter she motioned for Rick to take a seat, which he did on the gurney across from her. "Just ask me already." She said cutting to the chase. Everyone _always_ asked if she really did it. A few asked why, but dropped the subject quickly when she replied 'why, do you wanna be next?'. It wasn't her intention to scare people… well maybe a little. She just didn't see the point in making herself vulnerable, not when people were lost so easily and trust was so fragile.

Rick took a seat and cleared his throat. "Were you alone? Before they found you I mean?" A nod is all he got so he continues. "And the guy you shot, what did he do?" he asks, deliberately phrasing it just as she had said it to him earlier.

It was unexpected coming from someone else though. No one ever asked her that before. It almost made her smile out of sheer disbelief. She didn't though. The stern look on her face was frozen there from too much practice. Still there was something about him she liked. How gentle he was with her, and at the same time brave, without being wishy-washy or weak. The fact that he chose to keep wearing that ridiculous uniform even though its authority was nothing but a joke seemed almost honorable to her. Honor was like gas these days, hard to find and when you did there wasn't much of it.

She chose not to berate him for actually caring about what happened to her like she did the others. That didn't mean she was quite ready to spill her guts to the stranger though. "Let's just say he wasn't one of the good guys…" Killer said as she swung her legs on the edge of the counter like a child.

It was clear to Rick she was avoiding the question so he deftly tried to change the subject in an attempt to earn her trust. "What's all this?"

Just as he had suspected, her eyes light up at the question, "The wind." she says mysteriously. Rick only looked at her with confusion on his face so she jumped off the counter to grab one of her sketches. "Hoping we can set up some kind of turbine up on the roof and draw power to the generator in here." She starts, hopping up on the gurney next to him so he can see her crude plans.

"I'm a little concerned that the noise and movement will draw too much attention though. We're gonna have to do a quick test model somewhere within binocular range. See how the walkers react to it. I'm hoping if we paint it to blend in a little they will be curious at first and then ignore it but we'll see what happens..." She adds, handing the paper to him.

Rick looked over her plans thoughtfully. He was certainly impressed by her ingenuity but it didn't surprise him. The innocent quality in her voice when she spoke about it did though. It warmed his heart more than a few degrees. When she pointed to the drawing in her hand she even leaned into him a little. She was forgetting to be Killer and he used the opening to chip away at a little more of the wall she had up, "Did he hurt you?"

The abrupt change of course caught her off guard. She had to think for a second before she realized what he meant. He actually gave a damn about her and she didn't know what to do with that. "What do you think?" is all she could come up with.

He was getting somewhere with her though, finally. Looking up from the paper with tired eyes, "I think there has to be something you don't know how to do there wonder woman." he tells her with a chuckle.

Killer's head cocked to the side in genuine thought, "Well…I'm a terrible dancer… can't sing… can't cook for shit…" she begins to rattle off.

"Can't kill a man without feeling guilty about it?" he adds without thinking better of it.

She froze almost instantly. He had pushed just a little too far that time and as she shut down again it was almost audible, like gears grinding to a halt. Killer took the paper out of his hands and hopped back off the gurney, putting it with the others. "You said you needed my help?" she asks matter-of-factly, her arms folded across her chest, cutting to the chase again.

Rick nodded, he might was well ask. She had definitely warmed up to him some and he knew there was more to the flat 'no' he had gotten on the subject earlier. "The others, the people you save, where do they go?" he ventures.

She shrugged, back to being defiant "We tell 'em to get outta town. Stay off the roads. Avoid big cities. All the obvious stuff. Who knows if they listen or not…" she pauses thoughtfully, "I did run into this kid though, not too long ago. Said he had a camp in the woods outside the city with some people. Probably just a story, to make me think he had back-up in case I planned on taking his stuff though, ya know? I didn't give it much thought I guess."

"When was this?" he asks eagerly. Possibility rang in his voice. As if he believed he might actually find this guy and that he would know where to find his family. No one ever found the lost anymore though. It was a pipe dream. He was definitely still in denial Killer thought, that old familiar feeling. She had it once too. Only she knew exactly what happened to her family from day one.

She shuddered silently at the thought and tried to rub away the goose bumps forming on her arms in order to hide them from Rick. It didn't go unnoticed by his trained eye though. "Bout a week ago I guess?" she answers, relaxing a little.

Jumping off the gurney he grabs a paper and pencil, energized "Where?"

"You don't actually think you're gonna find him, do you?" she questions him, incredulous.

Looking up from the paper Rick deadpans, "Got any better ideas?"

She rolls her eyes and walks over to Rick, taking the pencil from behind her ear and drawing a quick map. "The department store is in a tough part of town. You'll never make it unarmed and alone…" she tells him, knowing what this would mean, for both of them.

"I made it this far didn't I? I'm not giving up now." He says with such confidence it makes her heart actually ache. It was strange to her, to meet someone still in the beginning stages of adjusting to the new world. He hadn't been jaded by the months of scavenging for food, living in fear and the heavy struggle of everyday life. Maybe, just maybe, there were good guys left after all.

Her voice softens to almost a whisper when she speaks this time, "The odds you know… they're astronomical. The sooner you accept that they're gone…" She felt horrible to say it but it was the truth. He knew it too. He just didn't want to admit it.

Rick stood upright quickly at that, "I'm not giving up on them. I can't. Without them… I don't… how could I..?" he choked up, his confidence wavering with each syllable. Before he could finish, his jaw tightened shut. His hands gripped the gurney, white knuckled, as he leaned back into it.

"How could you go on without them." she says without asking. She already knew the answer.

He shrugs, exasperated "I wouldn't know what to do with myself…" and it was the truth. Every part of his life that had once defined him no longer existed, like a sweater that had unraveled. His family was the only thread he had left to hold on to.

Killer laughs sarcastically, stretching her arms wide, "Look at me." He obliged but clearly didn't follow her train of thought. "No, really look at me." She says turning slowly with her arms up high.

Rick wasn't sure what he was supposed to see. He had noticed when they first met that she was fitter than average. Lightly muscled arms and a frame that was lean and feminine but still strong. He hadn't considered it was a deliberate effort until then though. As he looked her up and down he thought that she would actually be sort of pretty. If she were dressed differently and they had passed in the street he might have even given her a second glance. Boy would his partner Shane have a field day with that one if he knew, Rick thought. Shane was the bad boy to his straight man and things didn't often falter the other way.

Clearly he wasn't picking up what she was putting down. "Don't kid yourself. It's a war out there and this is my best weapon." She says, her words sounding almost cliché, "I turned my body into well oiled killing machine." Killer smiles painfully. "Just one of the ways I found to go on. You have to keep busy, find purpose in little things… I work out, the guys play poker but it's all the same thing. All a distraction from reality. Because if I really thought about it? Really pondered the weight of it? I wouldn't be able to get out of bed in the morning. I may not be 'hills are alive with sound of music' happy, but I _am_ surviving." Killer adds proudly.

Is this what he had to look forward to… monotony and emptiness? He would rather be walker food. Rick nods sadly, "You forgot Stella."

"Stella." She laughs at hearing Honda's nickname. She had a little soft spot for the kid too. She looked out for him around the others since he was the low man on the proverbial food chain, which took on a sad new meaning these days. She never let him know it though; it was too risky... for both of them. "Exactly. It gets us through today. And in this world you can't ask for more than that." She says her resolve undeniable.

Rick only shakes his head, disappointed "And then what?" That couldn't be all there was.

"And then… I don't know, we have the windmill, and the filtration system for our water and… it doesn't really matter what as long as it keeps us occupied." She offers, knowing it was not what he wanted to hear. Not even close.

"And you're satisfied with that?" Rick pushes. He didn't even care if she got mad that time but she only found his determination admirable, sweet even. It wouldn't last though. It never did.

Without missing a beat she fires right back, "Satisfied? Are you fucking kidding me? I was happy before you know. I miss my life _just_ as much as you do. You think you have the monopoly on that! I had nothing left. Not a single solitary thing from my old life. Only the clothes on my back and I tossed those long ago. For Christ's sake I can't even help those people wandering around like zombies out there." Her words are fast and angry, "I became a doctor so I could help people and now I kill them. How satisfied do you think I am?"

Instantly he regrets his choice of words, "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to imply…"

"I know." Killer cuts him off. "They never do…" she adds absently. Rick rubbed his temples, his headache building with each new worry he added to his list. Killer walked over to grab the bottle of Vodka she had used to clean with earlier. Hopped back up on the gurney and took a long swig. "Forgot to throw you a welcoming party. Here, it'll help you sleep." She offers.

Rick shook his head without even looking. She pushed it closer and he decided he may as well. It burned on the way down and in some strange way it felt good, to feel something. He passes it back to her, "You're not so tough ya know, not really. You're just as scared as I am. Only difference is you're better at hidin it."

It was a pretty bold thing to say and had it been anyone else she would have decked them. Instead Killer laughed, so hard she almost spit out the vodka in her mouth. It made him laugh too but the moment faded quickly and they fell into a comfortable silence for a few minutes.

Seemingly out of nowhere Killer starts talking, it seems like to herself at first "It was a second hand shop. Right on the edge of the town. They said to go to Atlanta on the radio, while it was still working that is. I'd been driving for a week trying to stay out of the city. Thought if I didn't run into anyone or any_thing_ I could just pretend like I was on a road trip, ya know? You could still find gas and food at the really out of the way places back then." She says, like it was a lifetime ago, before continuing. "I had finally worked up the courage to go into the city when I saw it. Figured it would be nice to have some clean clothes before anyone had to actually smell me..." She laughs but it only sounded hollow.

"Anyway, I started looking around when I heard a noise coming from behind the counter. I had a gun thank god, but I'd never fired it. I was shakin like a leaf but I held it up and walked around the counter. It was a man. He was lying in the ground like he was hurt but he didn't seem like one of them. When he saw the gun pointed at him and he begged me not shoot him I knew for sure he wasn't. As soon as I put my gun in my purse and bent down to help him though he jumped up and pushed me on the ground. Son of a bitch was pretending like he was hurt so he could pounce on me when I let my guard down." Killer shakes her head in disgust. Rick could already guess what was about to happen but he let her finish anyway.

"I managed to knee him in the balls before he did much other than grope at me. Tried to run away but he pulled a knife out and took a swipe at my back as I got up." Her eyes well up as she takes another swig of the bottle before passing it back to Rick. He wasn't surprised there was a story like this to explain her new found persona. It made sense to him. He nodded as reassuringly as he could but she didn't seem to notice, she was looking at a picture in her head he would never see.

Her voice never faltered as she spoke, never wavered. It belied the emotion in her eyes and the few tears that made their way down her face. "It's weird how you can feel stuff in situations like that. I knew it right away, it was gonna be him or me. I told him to stop right there as I tried to back out of the store. He called my bluff though and kept coming at me. I panicked I guess. I don't even remember pulling the trigger but he went down. Have you ever heard anyone get shot in the head before? It was a horrible sound. I swear I'll never forget it as long as I live… I stood there for what felt like forever. The shot got the boys attention I guess and they found me. What an idiot… I'm lucky I didn't get mobbed by walkers first. I didn't know any better then though… I still had the gun in my hand and I was terrified they would turn out to be just like him. So I made the decision… I was never gonna let anyone get one up on me again. And Killer was born." she says, finally breaking her gaze and wiping at the wetness on her face.

Rick couldn't help but care. It was in his DNA, why he joined the sheriff's office in the first place. He wished he could have helped her, that he could have helped all of them. He could barely help himself though. It was an agonizing feeling to be powerless and he understood her pain in a way he never would have before his world fallen out from under him. He also knew he couldn't say or do anything to make it better.

"I'm sorry that happened to you." is all he can think of to say. The only response he got was a shrug and a heavy sigh from Killer. "Didn't your mother teach you any manners? A thank you would do just fine." he chastised her with a smile.

Killer's posture straightened immediately. He mother _had_ taught her manners but she hadn't had much use for them these days. "Yes sir, she did." she says as a big grin stretched across her face. She hadn't called anyone sir in a long time but as soon as he had mentioned her mother she couldn't help herself. The fact he had put her in her place like that amused her more than she thought it would have. "Thank you." She whispered, almost sheepishly, as an afterthought.

"You're welcome." Rick smiles back with satisfaction, nudging her good naturedly with an elbow to the ribs and a wink. It had been a very long time since anyone had dared to wink at her, let alone a man. After being starved for months she bloomed from the positive attention.

It may have only been the alcohol but Rick felt his stomach flutter for just a second. Guilt followed soon after. Was he really flirting with a woman that wasn't his wife? Then again, at least she appreciated it; his wife didn't seem to care much anymore. Maybe that vodka was a bad idea after all he thinks before returning his attention to Killer. "You can ride with me tomorrow. I'll take you to the store to look for that guy. Or wherever, you know… you wanna go…" she offers in what was about the nicest thing she could think of to repay his kindness.

He hadn't expected that. Rick was relieved at the thought that he wouldn't have to go it alone though, well not entirely at least. He did want to go check out the department store but first wanted to get his bag. The guns were going to be crucial obviously but the walkie-talkie was more pressing at the moment. He had to warn Morgan, the man who had saved him days before, that Atlanta had fallen. As were most of Rick's intentions, it was just the right thing to do.

"Thank you ma'am." He says, turning to face her with a nod. "I gotta confess I have a secret though." He ventures, hoping he wouldn't regret trusting her with his only bargaining chip.

Killer arches an eyebrow way up with a smirk, "I'll just bet you do." They may have been innocently playing at it before but now it was unmistakable. The air in the room quickly charged full of electricity. It made Rick nervous and she could read it on his face.

"I, uh, have a bag. By the tank where you found me. Dropped it in all the commotion. Got some guns, ammo and stuff I could really use before I head out…" he says with a more serious tone than he had taken with her since they met.

She couldn't hide her surprise as her eyes grew as big as saucers. "Well I'll be damned." Killer drawls, jumping off the gurney and swatting him in the chest playfully. "You're a sneaky little devil, aren't you?" the genuine surprise and delight in her eyes was endearing.

Rick shrugs, "Not sneaky… just careful. I haven't told the others and I'd be much obliged if we could keep this our little secret."

She nods, a serious tone washing over her as well. "You go it cowboy." Killer remarks, her statement punctuated with a wink that disappeared as quickly as the twinkle in her eye did. She didn't want him to think she was throwing herself at him. She just enjoyed the back and forth. Something as simple as a stimulating conversation made her feel normal, for a little while at least. She was clinging to that feeling more than she was to him in particular. Although, clinging to him would not be such a bad thing, she thought. Not bad at all.

"Well, I better head back… Don't want them to send out a search party for me or nothin." Rick joked. Part of him didn't want to leave. Despite the awkward tension in the room he still felt relaxed there, like he could forget what was happening for awhile. In the cafeteria his already frayed nerves felt like they were always on edge.

Deflated, she nods in agreement, "Come by before breakfast for those meds, you'll need to take them with food."

"What are we gonna do about tomorrow?" he asks her. Rick had gotten the okay to go tomorrow but he still wondered if the logistics would be in their favor or not.

Killer nods in understanding "If I say you're ridin with me, you're ridin with me…" She didn't have to ask twice around here. No one liked her but they did respect her. There were never questions with her, just statements. This was what she was doing and this was how and they could follow her or get out of the way. Those who followed lived longer so it had become the more popular option.

Rick heads for the door with that, "Thanks Doc." He had gotten what he came for and then some. There was a sudden numbness coming over him and he wanted to try to get some sleep while it lasted.

"You're welcome cowboy… Just do me a favor, d-" Killer jokes before being cut off.

He rolls his eyes at her and teases back, "Don't tell them you were nice to me, I know. I'll say ya roughed me up and chased me outta here. You're secret's safe with me."

She smiles, biting her lower lip as he reached for the door "Night."

"Night" he says turning back one last time before he leaves. When his eyes meet hers though, they lock like magnets. As much he knows he should, he can't look away.

Killer opens her mouth to say something but her breath only catches. This feels like a first date and it's the end of the night and they're standing on her porch each waiting for the other to make the first move. She decides it's going to be her, "Go on now; I'm getting sick of looking at your ugly mug." Killer shoos him off with her hands but there was a devious smile on her face.

Rick grins at her and nods before shutting the door behind him. He paused before heading down the hallway though. He felt it, a connection between them. He still wasn't sure how he felt about it but he knew he liked her all the same. Looking at the door one last time he sighed and shook his head. There was a bed with his name on it and a family that needed finding. Anything or _anyone _else would just distract him from his purpose. Rick heads back to the cafeteria with new found resolve… and hope.


	6. Chapter 6

**AN: Thank you, thank you, thank you all. I'm grateful for each and every one of you who take the time to read. Action is admittedly not my strong suit but I went for a tiny bit here. Hope you like it! **

**Chapter 6: So what, is it time for dessert already?**

"Death is not the greatest of evils; it is worse to want to die, and not be able to."

-Sophocles

Rick woke up early the next the morning. Way too early apparently because everyone was still sleeping. Without the sun it was hard to tell what time it might be. He had been tossing and turning all night. There was way too much on his mind. Like it or not he was awake.

No one questioned him when he came back to the cafeteria the night before. There were a few laughs and snickers. He tried to look as pissed off as he could so they would assume Killer tore him a new one. No one really seemed to care as long they weren't on the receiving end of her wrath apparently.

You were supposed to go places in pairs. Rick knew the rules but wasn't really too keen on waking someone up just so he could go take a leak. Opting to go it alone he made his way down the dim hallway. Thousands of tiny particles floated through the air, lit up with the shine of his flashlight as his eyes began to adjust.

When he opened the lavatory door, light spilled out of the room and he was grateful that meant he'd at least slept through the night. The sun was just rising but he stood there in front of the door and blinked away the darkness in his eyes. It wasn't long though before he realized he wasn't alone. Killer was there, her back to him. It looked like she was glowing as the light that splashed from above hit the sheen of sweat on her body. If he had woken up from his coma to see that he would have thought she was angel. She must have just finished working out, he rationalized instead.

Clad in only a pair of shorts and a sports bra he could see just how hard she had been working on her 'killing machine'. She looked like one of those women from a fitness infomercial. The ones that had clearly spent an impossible amount of time exercising and dieting, except she wasn't quite so perky. He never quite understood the point of it all, but now? Just like everything Killer did it made perfect sense.

Rick blinked and craned his neck to get a better look. Not for the free show, which was definitely not bad, but because something had caught his eye. There was an angry red scar that ran diagonally across her back from shoulder to hip. Jesus… that guy really did a number on her, he thought.

"What the fuck guys, you know I have dibs on the bathroom until 6:30!" Killer groaned, wiping the sweat off her face with a towel.

Rick froze like a deer in headlights. He was pretty sure no one had mentioned anything about a schedule. Someone had conveniently left that addendum out. Probably hoped he would screw up so they could witness it and get a laugh. He was grateful for the sanctuary but Rick really couldn't wait to get the hell out of this place.

Turning around to further berate her offender Killer was surprised to find Rick standing there.

"Sorry, guess I uh… missed that memo." he shrugged guiltily.

She stared at him hard, sucking her teeth. "Whatever. Do your thing." She made a grand sweeping gesture for him to come in and threw her towel over her shoulder. After a long night of wishing Rick would stay there at the fort and make life a little more bearable she decided it was better to accept he was leaving. The more she opened up the more it would hurt when he left and her heart was already badly broken as it was. It was easier not to care so that's what she would do. That's what she always did.

As Killer brushed her teeth Rick stood there, bewildered. He wasn't sure what to make of her today. One step forward, two steps back apparently? She clearly didn't let him stop her from 'doing her thing' but he wasn't about to do his right there in front of her. There were no walls, no stalls and no privacy whatsoever.

He started to walk back out. "I think I'll just wait outside…"

Killer rinsed her brush and tapped it on the sink. "Not necessary, I'm done here."

There was a confidence about her that he hadn't noticed before. It seemed liked indifference at first and he'd dismissed it as part of her act. This wasn't, and he envied people like that. How they could just not give a shit what anyone else thought. It could have been a put-on but she deserved an Oscar if it was. Rick chalked it up to her having spent too much time around the guys at Fort Good.

After putting her toothbrush away she walked out the door without so much as a word. He was tired and groggy and didn't have the energy to worry about. "Morning to you too." He said over his shoulder. She was too far gone to hear it though.

He had stopped by the infirmary later and Killer gave him a grey and white capsule to take but said little else. Rick suspected she regretted letting him in on her secret and let it slide. If he were perfectly honest with himself he would admit he was grateful not to have the awkward tension between them anyway. It would make things… complicated and he couldn't do complicated. Not anymore.

Breakfast was interesting to say the least. Instant oatmeal that was surprisingly edible along with a tough piece of meat Rick was sure he didn't want to know the origin of. He ate every last bit though. He was hungry as hell. As everyone cleared their dishes and began to gear up he looked on helplessly. So he put on his hat and found the most agreeable person he could, Honda. "Is there anything I can do?" he asked uncomfortably.

Honda handed him a couple empty plastic milk crates. "Wanna take these outside for me?" he said, smiling lightly. It was clear they had a routine and he was disrupting it so he did as he was asked.

A flood of warmth and sunlight washed over him as Rick walked outside. Three vehicles were backed up to the entrance with trunks open, ready to load. Killer walked up to him. She was dressed the same as when they had first met with the addition of a pair of dark aviators. "Here." She said taking one of the crates and putting it in the back of her trunk before pointing at Popeye's car, "Put the other one over there."

Frisco was loading the vehicles up with an extra gas can. Honda came out with a few more crates and added them to the others. Each vehicle was each packed with two empty crates for collecting liquor bottles, a can of gas, binoculars, a gallon of water, a first aid kit, rope, crowbar, aluminum bat and some MRE's. Someone liked to be prepared. Rick guessed it was Killer. Her need for order was written all over this set-up.

Everyone began to huddle up for orders. Popeye took the lead with a detailed city map in hand. There was writing all over it. X's for places they had been to and found or left nothing. Check's for places they had raided but still had viable goods. O's marked places that were considered hostile territory that was too risky to enter at the time but worth another look when things cooled down.

Popeye's assignments began, "Radar, you and Frisco take this sector here. Honda and I will take this one. Killer you can work this area with Jet…" He had hoped Rick would forget about wanting to go, initiating newbie's was the worst. It would be a fight over who would get stuck with him and he really just wanted to get to work.

As they moved to head out Killer stood on the step along the frame of her car and put an arm on the door. "I got the cowboy. You're out buddy…" she said to Jet over the top of her of the vehicle. The guys whistled and cat called quietly to Rick. Killer _never_ requested partners. Jet gave her the finger and she gave him two in return before ducking inside the vehicle. Rick joined her quickly remembering she doesn't like to be kept waiting.

Bubba let them out of the perimeter fence and the convoy was off. After sitting in silence watching out the window Rick finally spoke up, "What's the matter? Wake up on the wrong side of the bed?"

He could feel her glare even though he couldn't see it. "We split with the guys just up the road here. We'll try for the guns first. If it's still swarmed we're gonna have to come back though." Killer said, deliberately ignoring the question.

As they drove they passed what was once a little boy ambling slowly across the road. She swerved around him with little effort. Rick held his breath and stared at him intently, as if he might recognize him. He was about Carl's age and size but thankfully it wasn't his son. Turning in his seat he watched the boy until he was out of sight.

"Why are you helping me?" Rick asked as he turned back around.

This time Killer's head tilted slightly, as if she was giving the question some thought. "Because your dumb ass is gonna get killed out there without my help." She finally said.

Rick nodded with a smile, "So what are you, my knight in shining armor now?"

She fought the smile forming on her face at first but then gave in, "I'm trying _not _to like you ya know… and you're not helping the situation."

He was surprised at the admission but rolled with it, "What can I say, I'm a likeable guy."

"Screw you, cowboy." Killer drawled while giving him the finger.

Rick was about to make a decidedly off color comment when they turned down a street that was swarming with walkers. The sound of their car may have preceded them and dozens of hungry walkers had begun to turn towards the car in the hopes that food was coming. Something slapped against the window behind Rick and he almost jumped out of his skin. He could see a bloody handprint streaked across the glass but not its owner.

Killer put the car in reverse and floored it. "Fuck, this place is still hot!" she shouted as she backed up. There was a loud thud and a bump from under them. Whatever was lurking around out there was now road kill. She hit the brakes and turned hard, swinging the car around 180 degrees. Neither of them dared to try and get a look at what they had hit. If it was a walker it was doubtful it was dead. If not, well neither of them wanted to know.

They could have plowed through them, done a smash and grab. It was risky though and Killer didn't take chances like that. Just opening the door to snag the bag would probably get you bit. That was, it seemed, the only difference between her and those things outside the car. She was more careful then they had been, more prepared. She was also damn lucky. There were no sure things anymore but there were safe bets. This was definitely not one of them.

After some quick turns and creative maneuvering Killer backed into an alley that looked clear, put the car in park and turned off the ignition before the hum of the motor attracted any unwanted attention. "Now what?" Rick asked.

"Well, either we try the department store or…. follow orders and start looking for liquor." she said looking around constantly for signs of trouble.

He could wait it out another day, maybe two. Let the crowd settle down. The waiting, not knowing, was killing him though. He had to do something _now_. "Department store it is." Rick nodded.

They drove out again in silence. When they slowed to a crawl in front of glass plated doors Killer spoke, "That's the place." She said speeding up and circling the corner to make another pass.

"What's the best way to get in?" Rick asked her.

She shrugged, "There's an alley behind that bus there. That's where I saw the kid come from. Never been inside though…"

They circled around once more before. "So do we park and make a run for it or what?"

Killer's head dropped a little as she drove, "This is as far as I go cowboy. You go in there and you're on your own." She would help him, the best she could, but putting her life on the line was another story. That place could be filled with the dead. Or even worse the not so friendly living. When they hit the big buildings they did it with five or six guys. Going in just the two of them was suicide.

He had expected they would part ways at some point, just not this soon. "Do you know what's on the other side of that bus?"

She shook her head, a looming sense of dread felt like it was sucking the oxygen out of the car "No… but if you're gonna do this you gotta decide soon before we get noticed."

They pulled away from the building to give Rick a moment to think and parked around a quiet corner. Thankfully the tinted glass kept them hidden well. It was crazy to just go in there on a whim. He had a safe place and he was going to plunge head first into the unknown. It hadn't gone for him last time either, that was for sure.

"I have to do it…" Rick said, trying to convince himself more than anything. "I have to try."

Killer nodded slowly. She knew that was going to be his answer. "I'll tell the others you got bit and I left you behind. If you want those guns you better get to them soon before someone else does." She still had her eyes peeled but pushed her glasses up on top of her head. "I'll get you as close to the bus as I can. Then you move. Fast."

Rick stared out the window with his forehead against the glass. "Got it."

"I would ask you if you're sure you wanna do this but I already know the answer" she laughed softly.

He smiled lightly before turning to face her. "Guess I'll say my good byes then." Rick said as if he knew he wouldn't make it out of that building. He stuck his hand out to her. "Thanks… for everything."

Killer reached into a hidden pocket on the side of her pants and pulled out a little orange bottle. Taking his outstretched hand and placing the bottle in it she then covered it with her other hand. "Remember, once a day with food. I don't care if you feel fine, you take every last one of those. You hear me?" she said with authority.

"Yes ma'am." He smiled. She hadn't let go of his hand. Rick didn't mind it either. Not even a little. You would have to be nuts not be scared to go in there and he was far too sane to pretend he wasn't terrified. She was scared for him too. It was sweet but didn't reassure him much.

For the first time all day Killer turned and looked him straight in the eye. It sent shivers down his spine. "Whatever you do… save your last bullet for yourself." She blinked and looked away, letting go of his hand, "Just in case." Her face had paled and her bravado was all but gone.

Rick reached in the back for his hat, looking absently at it "Guess this won't make it under that bus, huh?"

"Probably not." Was all Killer said.

"You should keep it." Rick replied, passing it to her.

Backing away as far as one could in the confines of her seat she shook her head, "No, your like Indiana Jones with that thing. I couldn't…"

Rick smiled sadly, "Well, just hold on to it for me then. I'll be back for it some day."

"Liar…" she said taking the hat anyway.

After a deep breath Rick steeled himself, "It's now or never right?"

Killer pulled out and headed for the alley. Her emotions were getting the best of her and she fought the tears that were threatening to fall. She felt like she was driving someone to the executioner. She felt guilty that she couldn't help him… or worse, just wouldn't. As they neared the bus she joked, "I better not have to come in there and save your ass again cowboy."

"I know…" he managed to whisper as the car stopped.

Shifting in her seat Killer leaned closer. "Rick…"

Without a second thought Rick opened the door and said, "Goodbye." as he made a run for it.

The door closed in front of her as she was reaching for him. She wanted to hug him. To grab him by the collar and kiss him in case it was the last chance either of them had for things like that. He slipped out too fast though. Instead she just pressed her hand against the glass "Goodbye." She whispered to no one.

Their arrival had not gone unnoticed. A few of the dead head headed towards the car. She sat back and waited as they advanced, the engine revving, as she laid on the horn. Anything that had seen Rick quickly turned their attention on her. "Come on you sons of bitches! Come and get it!"

It went against her better judgment to play the decoy. It was, in the end, the best way she knew to say thank you though. Even if it was just the tiniest spark, he had given her hope. Someday, someway, somehow… things could be normal. She could be normal.

When she was satisfied she had taken the heat off Rick as best she could she began to drive away slowly. There were walkers hanging on to the car now. She could hear the snarling all around her as she kept a pace that allowed them to walk with the car. The smell of decay filled her nose soon after. Neither was something you got used to. It was no less terrifying now then the first time she had seen one. The tears she had held back seemed to disappear into thin air as every part of her focused on the situation at hand. If nothing else should would at least lead as many of them away as she could.

Amid all the noise Killer heard her radio crackle and laid off the horn. "Come in! Come in!" she heard Bubba's voice shouting. He sounded panicked.

She picked the radio up off the dash and pressed the button, "It's me Bubba, what's happening?"

"They're inside!" he shouted, "They got inside!"

Killer's stomach felt like it dropped to the floor. Walkers got into the fort? How was that possible? They had taken every precaution. "Say again." She spoke into the walkie talkie. Maybe she misheard…

The radio beeped several times and she stopped the car, holding the radio up to her ear to hear it better. There were a dozen or so walkers banging all around on the glass, they would get through soon enough. "Inside-" finally came through and then static, followed by the sound of gunfire and another "Inside-"

Shots rang out from the alley behind her. Should she go back for Rick or back to the fort, she thought. "Shit, shit, shit!" Killer said aloud before slamming on the gas pedal. A man, no, a _thing_ with half his face torn apart hit the front end of the car and managed to hold on to the grill as she sped off.

"I'm on my way!" she shouted into the walkie before tossing it on the seat next to her.

The walker was still holding on, trying to climb up the hood. "You are one stubborn bastard aren't you?" she said slamming on the brakes. Getting out of the car she put a bullet in his head and he finally dropped to the ground. As she ran back in the vehicle she noted that there had been no more shots from the alley. He made it in, she tried to convince herself. He made it in. He made it in, she thought over and over as she headed back to the fort like a bat out of hell. Literally…

**BACK AT THE DEPARTMENT STORE  
**

As Rick made his way under the bus he saw feet. This was not going to go as smoothly as he hoped. When he made it into the alley he saw several walkers that noticed him just as quickly. He had his gun aimed and ready to shoot as he looked for a door or some kind of entrance. The walkers we advancing on him and he heard shuffling from under the bus. They were coming from both sides.

Then the sound of a car horn blared through the air catching the attention of the dead. Killer. It wouldn't get rid of all of them but it would buy him some time. He would have to thank her if he made it out of this alive. Some went toward the sound and those that went for him he shot as he ran for a door at the end of the alley. When he got there it was locked and Rick panicked. Firing again he managed to drop a few more walkers but the sound was just going to keep drawing more in.

He looked around frantically for some other way of escape as he backed up against the door. "Come on… Give me something here." He said to the sky and the god he wasn't sure he even believed in anymore. Instinctively backing away from the threat in front of him he pressed his back hard against the door.

Suddenly, he fell back as the door opened and he was yanked inside by the shoulders. Rick was surrounded as he crab walked away from the door. There were four, no five of them. They had him surrounded but they were clearly alive. His heart felt like it was going to beat out of his chest as he tried to catch his breathe.

"What the hell are you doing, trying to get us all killed?" A blonde woman with eerily light eyes shouted at him. She had a gun pointed at his head and she was pissed.

Rick tried to stand up and introduce himself but the woman was not having it. Still sitting on the floor he tried to diffuse the situation, "No ma'am. That was not my intention. Just trying to find my family is all."

A younger man with a baseball cap on mocked him, "With those moves there Clint Eastwood? Good luck with that…" but he reached out a hand to help him up anyway.

"Thanks, I'm Rick Grimes." He said as he shook the young man's hand.

Everyone in the group relaxed somewhat with that, although he wasn't exactly welcomed with open arms. "My name is Glenn, this is Morales, T-Dog, Andrea and Jacqui."

Rick exchanged a nod with each of them except Morales. The round man shook his hand with a smile and offered, "Nice to meet you."

"Likewise…. I heard from a friend that you might have some kind of survivor's camp outside town?" he inquired, might as well cut to the chase.

Andrea answered before anyone else could though. "Yeah well we did, if we ever make it back out of here." Whatever it was that he had done she was still clearly quite upset about it. She reminded him of Killer, full of spit and vinegar. Maybe it was the fact that the safety was still on her gun but he had the sense she was far less prepared to back it up. No one moved to stop her. They didn't seem to be interesting in shooting him either though.

More than a little confused Rick said, "I'm sorry, I don't think I understand."

"There are hundreds of them out here looking for something to eat and you run over here guns blazing… You just rang the dinner bell." Andrea shot back with a glare as she lowered her weapon and pointed to the crowd gathering in front of the building.

"Wait, you have friends?" Glenn asked. You couldn't tell if he was shocked that someone was actually willing to hang around with the sheriff or if he was concerned there would be others coming to join him.

Rick figured there was no harm in answering their questions. "Just _a_ friend." He emphasized the singularity of his previous statement. "From that prison… I think it was called Metro State? Said she ran into a young guy here not too long ago." At this point he wasn't even concerned about giving up the fort. They could hold their own. Earning the trust of his reluctant saviors was more important to him.

Glenn's eyes widened, "You mean those military wanna-be assholes?" He had seen the guys before but had chosen to stay hidden. He didn't like what he had seen. The way they had surrounded one of the walkers that had lost its legs and took turns wailing on it with a baseball bat. They reminded him of schoolyard bullies and he had been picked on by his share.

The woman had broken it up. She's the one who noticed him ducked behind a car. For whatever reason, she chose not to give him up. He told her about the camp to scare her off, fearing she would try to follow him. She wasn't exactly nice but he walked away from the exchange a little less worried.

"That sounds about right." Rick smiled. He was started to like the kid already.

"Shit…" was all Glenn had to say to that. His mind was racing though. Would the others be coming? What did this guy want from them?

The other woman named Jacqui chimed in "You never said anything about that to us?" chastising him like a mother would her child. Her face was kind, belying her strong bone structure.

Glenn just shook his head, "Those guys are a bunch of Cro-Magnons with guns. You don't wanna know, trust me…" The others eyed him suspiciously and he added, "Imagine Merle sober, dumber and with a shit-load of weapons."

That seemed to be all the explanation necessary. Morales quickly looked around the area, "Where _is_ Merle?" The sound of a shotgun firing from above got everyone's attention and quickly.

"The roof." T-Dog said what everyone else was thinking.

They all made a mad dash for the stairs and Rick followed, saying to himself more than anything "So what, is it time for dessert already?" No one else was listening though.


End file.
